


Just a Lie

by Quinis



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, references to Forever Evil arc, references to Grayson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-07-16 09:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7263229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinis/pseuds/Quinis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His death didn't matter because he lived to lie about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Just an indulgent little piece because I haven't seen many people explore the effect of Dick's capture and temporary murder. on himself afterwards Because it's indulgent, it's about hurting Dick over and over again and maybe there'll be a little bit of happiness at the end. It's a blend of DC universes and contains what is probably as close to PTSD as I'm willing to write (not having any experience with PTSD).
> 
> Enjoy.

 

**Just a Lie**

* * *

Dick seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to nightmares. He could tell when he closed his eyes whether it would be a restful sleep or not. Unfortunately, that didn't always stop him. Sometimes he was just dead on his feet or he just had to sleep that night because he wouldn't know when he would get another chance to sleep again. Therefore he had to ignore the foreboding feeling of an incoming nightmare.

Then there were the ones which came without any warning. His recent nightmare was a snake in the grass, one he didn't see coming until it was too late.

It always started differently. Sometimes with flying through the air, training with someone in the cave or eating dinner with the whole family. Something which made him think that this would be a good dream after all.

Then it wasn't. He'd be restrained by hands or machine and his vision would tunnel. All he would see was a hand coming for him, pressing against his mouth. The sour taste of skin mixed with the smooth texture of a pill to stop his heart. He would try to cry out, try to fight back. But, he was restrained. Unable to fly. Unable to fight. Only able to wait until reflexes he didn't want kicked in to swallow the table.

Only able to wait until his heart stops and everything goes dark.

* * *

Sleep left him the feeling of hands gripping his wrists. He thrashed back, only slightly relieved that the rest of his body could move.

"Nonononono," he mumbled, growing louder by the second. He needed to make his displeasure clear. He didn't want this!

"Dick!"

His eyes snapped open. Hovering above him was the worried face of Jason Todd. He tried to calm down but all he could focus on was that Jason was holding him down.

"Get off!" he snarled, his heart jackhammering.

Surprisingly, Jason was calm as he climbed off.

"Okay," he said, hands up non-threateningly.

Dick's breath came in short pants as his lungs gratefully filled with air. It was then he noticed the round face at the edge of the couch.

"Damian?" he questioned.

The latest Robin jumped up and crushed him, sending his heartbeat up again. Dick quickly twisted his body so that he was sitting up with Damian in his lap. Only then did he hold the warmth of his little brother close.

"You stopped breathing," Damian informed him quietly.

"What?" Dick questioned. Sure, his chest hurt but he thought that was the overemotional state of his dream.

"The kid came to get me because he had been watching you sleep. You stopped breathing. Why?"

"You didn't move either," Damian said and it was only then Dick noticed the slight tremor in the kid's shoulders. "You were so still..." like death. The words went unsaid but implied.

A shudder crawled up Dick's spin. He closed his eyes and tried to banish his nightmare from his mind.

It wouldn't work. It never worked. The nightmare of Lex Luthor killing him kept coming back, reminding him of the reality he lived in.

One where he had died. Where his death 'didn't matter' because he lived to 'lie' about it.

It 'didn't matter' that he had been hurt and restrained. It 'didn't matter' that he had been killed 'for the greater good'. It 'didn't matter' that his heart had stopped. That someone forced him to down a pill which stopped his heart while he had been unable to do anything about it. It didn't matter the Lex Luthor would get away with it, all because he brought him back and helped save the world.

"Doesn't matter," Dick told them, "it was just a nightmare."

"'Just a nightmare' doesn't make you stop breathing," Jason informed him.

"This one does," he responded, giving them a reassuring smile. "And I would have woken up when I needed air anyway." Unlike that time, where an injection was the only thing to save him. He woke from the dreams, tired and gasping but that was better than waking hurt, weak and deep in enemy territory.

They gave him suspicious looks but dropped the issue. The glance back Jason gave him, told him that this wasn't over.

Dick made a mental note to not crash with Damian over at Jason's again. Maybe he'd go to Tim's or one of Batman's old bunkers.

* * *

Tim's was next. He could see the look on Jason's and Damian's face when Dick was ordered to spend the night with someone close by. A concussion was no joke.

Dick responded immediately with 'Tim', the person in question looking like a deer in the headlights. He couldn't help it. Jason looked too eager to have him caught out in another of his nightmares and Damian look worried, a strange expression on his round face.

It was nothing, he reminded himself. It wasn't like he had them every night.

"Why didn't you go to Jason's?" Tim asked. Dick frowned up at him from his spot on the couch. The rejection in the words; 'why did you come here?', had hurt.

"I wanted to spend time with you," Dick responded with a smile. "After all, I haven't seen you in a while. Wanna make sure you're not overworking yourself."

Tim gave him a disbelieving look but didn't question it. Dick had a feeling Jason probably asked him about the nightmares and so, distracted him with questions about the Teen Titans.

* * *

He was pressed at all sides, machines linked to his heart. Not to save him but to destroy everyone. He told Batman to leave. Tried to warn him of the trap.

_"I die... or we all die."_

He couldn't do anything but watch as Lex Luthor shot Batman down.

Couldn't move.

_"I'm saving our lives... by ending his."_

A hand pressed to his mouth. All he felt at the end was only split second of pain shooting through him and it was nothing compared to the weakness and aches he would feel when he awoke.

And... light.

"Gah!" Dick jolted as he registered the light being shined in his eyes.

"Pupils reacting normally," Tim reported in a drone. Dick sighed as he realised what was happening.

His head hurt not from his heart being restarted but from the concussion.

Dick answered each of Tim's droned questions, until it reached the last one.

"Do you remember what you were dreaming about?"

"Is that important?" Dick almost growled.

"Well, if you're remembering the moments before the concussion in your dreams that would be a good sign."

Tim was a good liar. It wasn't technically a lie but Dick knew he wouldn't be asking that unless he gave away some sign of his nightmare.

"It's not the concussion," he responded, lying back down and closing his eyes to get Tim to go away.

"You probably should stay awake longer," Tim reminded him, shaking his shoulder.

Dick opened one eye and stared up at him.

"Do I have to?"

Tim's lips twitched at the childish response. Dick wasn't sure whether he was amused or annoyed.

"It would be for the best."

"Okay, then tell me about the time you took Superboy to try jalapeno peppers."

"You mean the time I was dared to take Superboy for jalapeno peppers," Tim said as he cursed Bart under his breath. Because Bart would have been the only one to tell Dick about it. Somehow.

* * *

After that nightmare, Dick didn't dare try Tim's again. Also, his back hurt from sleeping on the couch. He stuck to sleeping in his own safe houses and locations.

It was somehow worse.

Bruce's words in the darkness, _'I pushed you all away,'_ an apology and admission all in one. The knowledge at their bond, still strong, would kill Batman because he refused to leave him.

Dick dreamed of angry crowds. Of Wayne Manor burning as people learnt the truth about Gotham's defenders. He dreamed of the connection between Batman and Dick Grayson being the thing which destroyed everything.

'No! Get away!'

Dick woke with the words on his lips and his heart caught in his throat.

* * *

His heart ached for Jason or for Tim, while another part was hoping he would be with Damian again.

They weren't there. Only Batman, saying things he wouldn't be saying if Dick wasn't in danger. Then he was shot down and Dick was faced with Lex Luthor.

"No!" he gasped, trembling. The room was dark and he was alone. In a safe house bed.

Damian wasn't dead, he had been brought back to life. Dick curled up and wondered what the others had been told about his death. Did Bruce tell them all the little details like how the room smelt of metal and chemicals?

Dick breath caught in his throat and he uncurled. He needed out of the covers. The bed was too confining. He needed to move, despite the tiredness resting under his skin.

He paced up and down the safe house. It was meditative as he cleared his thoughts and just lost himself in the movement.

Nightmare after nightmare after nightmare, his nights seemed to be plagued by his worries and fears.

All linked to a single moment.

* * *

Dick couldn't sleep with blankets on. It was too confining. Distantly, he was aware that his nightmares were getting worse and that he wasn't dealing with them.

He had no idea how to deal with them. If he was on better terms with Jason, he could have asked him. Although, Dick also knew that Jason wouldn't care. After all, Dick hadn't 'really died'.

Dick wandered down the hall and opened the door to the library. Jason was standing by the shelves, thumbing through some kind of thick book. Dick didn't care about the title.

"Hey," Dick greeted him. Jason ignored him. With a sigh, Dick moved closer. "Jason."

Jason placed the book back and the shelf shuddered. Dick's heart raced as he saw the disaster before it happened. He rushed forward and tried to shove Jason out of the way, only to be buried under falling books. He collapsed under the weight. His arms were pinned. His legs wouldn't move. He couldn't breathe.

He could hear footsteps. Somehow he knew Jason had walked away.

Dick couldn't move. He cursed his body and the trap he was in. He wanted to cry out and yell.

'Let me out!'

'Get me out!'

'Help me!'

'..it hurts.'

A hand covered his mouth. A panic and terror deep and instinctive caused Dick's heart to freeze in his chest.

* * *

Dick woke. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe.

Another dream.

He curled as best he could, heart aching in his chest as he screamed a silent scream.

'It hurts!'

His hands clenched and grabbed. He felt they couldn't pull so he clenched more and more of the sheet, slowly pulling it up and off him.

Finally, when the sheet was balled up by his hands and no longer crushing him, he could breathe again.

* * *

He wondered if Jason dreamed of being trapped in his coffin. If Damian dreamed of arrows and swords.

He wondered how they dealt with it and, that night, he dreamed of being seven feet under. The coffin collapsed, burying him in dirt.

* * *

Someone grabbed his arm.

"Concentrate you idiot!" Red Hood yelled at him. Dick blinked and realised they were standing in an alleyway. There were two bodies on the ground, unconscious. It should have been an easy take down.

One of them had shoved their hand over Dick's mouth. He had panicked for a moment.

"I'm fine," Dick said, even though Jason hadn't asked. He couldn't tell what his younger brother was thinking under the red hood. "I hate that stupid helmet," he grumbled.

"What?" Jason growled in an angry tone. He was already worked up from Dick's moment of inattention and having to swoop in to save him.

"What do you care?" Dick snapped at him, itching for a fight. His skin trembled with nervous energy and the need to fight back.

_'It doesn't matter.'_

Jason's hands were clenched and Dick watched, ready to dodge the moment he threw a punch. Or not. Dick kind of liked the idea of a hand making momentary contact which would hurt rather than remain to smother him.

But, Jason exhaled and forced his hands to unclench. "Whatever. This is what I get for caring 'bout whether you get your head bashed in or not."

Dick watched Jason leave, feeling his eyes sting. It took him a few moments to remember he could breathe and move.

* * *

Bruce talked him into staying the night. It was probably because he was worried after Dick tried to pick a fight with Jason. Everyone had thought those days of serious fights were over.

Dick sat atop the covers on his bed and waited. He had more nightmares than restful nights. However, he couldn't resist closing his eyes for a moment.

A hand covered his mouth, pressing down. Dick clawed at it but it seemed immovable. He couldn't breathe.

_'Leave me alone!'_

A pressure on his body, holding him down.

Dick jolted awake with a cry. He threw off the pressure only for something to grab his wrists.

"Let go!" he growled in an almost feral tone. The last bit of sleep left his voice with the words.

"Dick?" Bruce identified himself with his voice and by switching the beside lamp on.

Dick blinked in the light, suddenly embarrassed.

"Bruce. Why are you in my room? Has something happened?"

Bruce gave him a sad but calculating look.

"I came to check on you. You were sleeping on the bed, I thought to cover you. If you sleep like that every night, it's surprising you haven't gotten sick yet."

Dick gave a small, weak smile in response.

"I'm serious, Dick." Bruce pulled back the blanket. "Under the covers."

The pulled back covers didn't look inviting. Dick suppressed a shudder as he flashed back to having something pressing down on him and holding him still.

"Nah, it's fine," Dick responded as he kicked at the covers.

"Dick," Bruce said in his warning tone. Dick's heart skipped a beat before racing. If anyone could figure out the real reason Dick didn't want the covers, it would be Bruce.

What kind of idiot was afraid of the covers because it meant a nightmare? Dick wondered, completely disgusted with himself.

"I'm not a child!" he yelled at Bruce, getting off and the bed and leaving the room. He wasn't going to sleep at the manor anymore.

* * *

It wasn't like Dick wasn't sleeping. Or so he told himself. The truth was that his nightmares meant the little bit of sleep he normally got at night was not restful. He was left waking up with his heart racing and covered in sweat. His body trembled and his stomach fluttered.

He didn't eat if he thought he was going to sleep soon. He learnt his lesson the third time he woke and only just managed to get his body to twist in time for him to hurl the snack he ate before bed onto the ground.

When he felt like he needed to talk with someone before he burst out of his skin, there was only one person he could call.

* * *

Nightwing ducked and not a moment too soon as a pole rushed over his head. He twisted and took out the criminal attacking him and turned to see how his brothers were doing.

"Nightwing!" Red Robin said in panic. His heart raced at that tone. Red Hood and Robin were off to the side, talking about something out of Nightwing's hearing.

Was Red Robin hurt? He tilted his head, searching for injuries. Red Robin raced up to him and grabbed his arm.

Nightwing winced. Now he felt it. It wasn't Red Robin injured, it was him. Something had sliced across his arm.

At least he felt more awake now than he had in ages.

"That was sloppy," a voice commented from the shadows.

Red Robin, Red Hood and Robin were instantly on guard as a dark-clad and bulky man revealed himself.

"Midnighter?" Nightwing questioned. "What are you doing in Gotham?"

"Came to check on you," Midnighter responded.

"What?" Red Hood questioned incredulously. Nightwing felt a similar shock. He had been talking to Midnighter because the other man was supposed to be safe. He wasn't supposed to come to Gotham!

Midnighter ignored Red Hood and stepped towards Nightwing.

"Have you been able to sleep?"

"Of course," Nightwing responded automatically. He heard Robin tsk from behind him.

Midnighter frowned and looked Nightwing up and down. The computer in his head picked up on every little thing that meant Nightwing was not as his best however, he didn't think he needed a computer for most of it. The signs were all there.

"Don't lie to me," he growled.

"I'm not."

"You came all this way to see if Nightwing's been sleeping?" Red Robin questioned in disbelief.

Finally Midnighter spared them a glance. It was only for a moment though, before he turned back to Nightwing.

"They don't know about your nightmares, do they?"

"There's nothing to know about," Nightwing snapped back.

In an instant, Midnighter had grabbed both his hands and was holding them tightly.

Goosebumps erupted along Nightwing's arms. A cold shiver ran up his spine while his hands were heated.

_Wires in his chest..._

Nightwing shook his head and weakly tried to pull away. His stomach flipped.

His legs could still move. He kicked out at Midnighter with no mercy. He didn't care if the other man wore a cup and other protective gear, he would at least feel the kick if it was hard enough.

Midnighter jumped back. His lip curled.

Nightwing could finally breathe. His chest hurt a little from not being able to.

"You were gone for a moment there," he pointed out. "Those nightmares aren't going to stop the way you're going."

"Shut up."

"What nightmares?" Robin questioned in an angry tone.

"Midnighter!" Nightwing growled in warning. He better not tell them.

"Why don't you ask him?" Midnighter questioned before calling up a door and disappearing to the other side.

* * *

Dick cursed Midnighter. He had set his little brothers off.

"Seriously, I'm fine. Go home," he said. They were assembled in his bedroom, carrying sleeping bags and pillows. Dick wondered where and when they had picked those up.

"No," Damian stated with a determined expression on his face.

"We know something's wrong," Tim said, "and we were ignoring it."

Because it doesn't matter, Dick thought.

"I'm just here so no one does anything stupid," Jason commented as he laid out his sleeping bag.

Dick chuckled at that. "Aren't you the one who is most likely to do something stupid?"

"Actually, I'm probably the most responsible in this room," Jason said. "And I don't like the idea that, for some reason, a guy like that thinks he knows something about you we don't. I'm just here to prove the Batman-wannabe wrong."

"A tip: don't call Midnighter that to his face," Dick said. He left the different morals between Midnighter and Batman out of it. His brain just wanted to switch off and he couldn't find the energy to fight his brothers on this.

Maybe if he was lucky, nothing would happen.

* * *

Jason insisted that if they were staying at Dick's, they could use his TV. Dick didn't care. He planted himself on the armrest and waited for a good time to leave.

"Jason, give the remote here!" Tim ordered, reaching across as far as he could without getting out of his spot. Jason held it up high, using his height to his advantage.

"Nope."

"-tt- Todd, stop acting like a child."

"You're the child here, kid," Jason snapped back. "We're watching this movie."

"It hasn't even started yet," Tim whined.

Dick couldn't blame him. The news was boring. He figured it would especially be so if you made it your mission to know everything that was going on like Tim did.

Dick lightly dozed, hovering between restful and awake. His brothers provided pleasant background noise that kept him in the moment.

"…and Lex Luthor…"

Dick's eyes snapped open to see that bald-headed man on the screen. The last time he had seen that mug, he had tossed tea in his face after Luthor had taken control over parts of his body using the hypnos Spryal had implanted in him.

Taking control from him again.

Dick shivered at the thought. He internally tried to change the subject, but his brain decided to jump back to the last time he saw Luthor before that incident.

He tried to swallow/not swallow as something sat in his throat. It was small and round and he didn't want it.

He coughed and hacked.

"Dick, you okay?" Tim asked. Dick nodded, meeting the worried gazes of Tim and Damian.

"I can't believe they let that guy into the Justice League. What's the Boss thinking?" Jason snorted at the screen.

"Bruce thinks he might really be trying to change," Tim said.

Dick wondered if they thought they were changing the subject.

"What do I have to do to get a full pardon like he did?" Jason mused.

"Save the entire world?" Tim suggested.

 _Kill me?_ Dick internally added. Anger flashed momentarily in his chest. It didn't make him feel better.

Jason snorted merrily. "Done that already. I just didn't proclaim it from the heavens or whatever Luthor did."

 _He shoved a killer tablet down the throat of someone who couldn't fight back._ Dick's stomach heaved.

 _Couldn't fight back._ He didn't like that. He had always been able to fight back. His chest tightened.

The tablet was still in his throat.

"Excuse me," he mumbled, leaving the room.

* * *

The bathroom door was locked and Dick dizzily turned on the shower. With any luck, they wouldn't think twice about what he was doing in here.

He gagged over the sink, trying to hack up whatever was in his throat. He spat and snorted and almost threw up as he gagged and heaved.

He turned on the tap in the sink and downed as much water as he could. Then he tried to make himself sick.

The door burst open.

"Dick? What the- what are you doing?" Jason cried out.

Dick heaved, breath stopping halfway down, heart jumping up his throat and his body slumping to the floor.

He couldn't take much more of this. His hands went to his throat. He couldn't talk, _there was something in there, something covered his mouth and he couldn't cry out._

"Dick!" Someone's hands on his shoulder, burning. "Look at me. Tell me, what's going on?"

 _Can't. Can't. Help. Leave me._ Dick shook his head. _Go!_

Hand over his mouth. He couldn't breathe.

_No, not in front of him. Not in front of Bruce. It'll kill him._

_He can't lose anyone else._

* * *

Dick opened his eyes. There was light streaming into the room. His body felt heavy. He couldn't remember coming to bed but that was par for the course these days.

"You awake?"

Dick turned his head to see Jason sitting on a chair next to his bed. The chair was one from his dining room.

"That looks uncomfortable," he said. He knew he had a couch, why did Jason feel the need to bring a chair in here?

"And whose fault do you think that is?" Jason barked. Dick flinched. He could almost feel his brother's anger as a heated aura. "What's going on Dick?"

"Nothing," he mumbled as he pulled himself up. His body was still tired, even though he had slept through the night. It was then he noticed that the sheets were gone.

"Don't lie to me," Jason growled. "You tried to choke yourself. You passed out. You lashed out whenever we tried to put even the lightest of sheets over you."

"I tried to what?" Choke himself? "Is that even possible?"

"You wrapped your own hands around your neck and squeezed. What else am I supposed to call it? Dick, what were you doing in the bathroom?"

"A shower?" Dick lied with a grin.

Jason's expression didn't change from the protective glare he was giving. It was very similar to Bruce's and Dick was just glad he wasn't here.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. However, Tim got suspicious and when you didn't respond to any of his or the brat's calls, I bashed the door down." Pause. "You need a new bathroom door, by the way."

Dick didn't remember anyone trying to talk to him. Had he really missed it?

"What were you doing in there?" Jason demanded to know. "Tell me."

Dick felt tempted to ask 'or what' but, he wondered if it would work.

"I was…" Maybe the truth would get Jason to back off? "There was something stuck in my throat."

Jason gave a disbelieving snort. "No, there wasn't."

It felt like a punch to the chest. Of course he wouldn't believe him.

"It felt like there was," Dick admitted placing a hand gently on his throat. Why did it feel so alien? His body didn't feel like his own. It wasn't under his control.

"Dick." Jason sat back. "What's going on? This..." Isn't normal. Not right.

Dread curled in Dick's chest. What was he supposed to say?

"It doesn't matter," he chanted.

Anger flashed on Jason's face. He was trying to control himself but Dick wasn't telling him what he wanted to hear.

"There's something wrong with you-"

"And it doesn't matter-"

"What makes you think THAT?" Jason bellowed. "Why do you think you have to handle all this stupid stuff alone like... him?"

Dick knew he shared some traits with Bruce. "I wonder if Bruce dreams of-" he mumbled, eyes sliding to the roof.

"What?"

Dick turned to Jason. He might be able to get an answer to one of his questions at least.

"Do you dream of the times you've died?"

Jason made a choked sound and stood up. The chair clattered to the ground behind him.

"What?" he questioned, face darkening as he glared down at Dick.

"Do you dream of the times you've died? Does being locked in a room make you feel fire?"

Jason swore. "Why are you asking this?" Was that a no? Was Dick the only one?

* * *

After a few moments, Dick quietly, shamefully admitted, "I do."

"You haven't died!" Jason growled at him. "Sure, you faked your death and funeral-"

"How?" a young voice demanded to know from the doorway. It caused both of them to jolt and stare at the door.

"Tim!" Jason scolded.

"I couldn't stop him," Tim said with a shrug as he and Damian entered the room. "And, honestly, we have a right to hear this."

"No. I don't see why you need to bother with this," Dick sighed. "They're just nightmares."

"Seems like more than 'nightmares' to me," Jason snorted. "And I don't get what Damian's asking anyway."

"Everyone seemed so certain Grayson died. Why? What happened?"

All the boys noticed how Dick paled and went still. Tim looked to Jason.

"Come to think about it; I don't know either. All I heard was the Crime Syndicate, the evil version of the Justice League from another world, unmasked him and killed him."

Jason stood stone still for a few moments. Eventually, he had to admit that he didn't know either.

"I survived so it doesn't matter," Dick reminded them. He was starting to feel better now that they weren't focused on what was wrong with him.

The three of them shared looks.

"Apparently, it does," Jason snorted.

"Dick, what happened? Why was everyone so convinced you died?"

Didn't they read any of the mission notes?

"Because, I was hooked up to a bomb and the only way to stop it was to stop my heart. Any attempts to remove me would have resulted in an instant explosion."

"But... but you got out?" Damian said. The stammer in his voice was all the evidence Dick needed to know that Damian had been thrown off by that information.

His little brother shouldn't be hearing this.

"Yeah, Bruce probably had some kind of plan," Jason said smugly. Almost like he was trying to convince himself.

"I don't see how," Tim said. The other two glared at him. "Sorry."

"Tim's right. And wrong," Dick sighed. "There was a way to get me out."

"Stop your heart?" Tim questioned.

Dick nodded.

"You can't just stop someone's heart," Jason said in disbelief.

"There are formulas," Damian pointed out. "Of course, most of them lead to death anyway. You need someone on standby to revive you more often than not. And assassins have trouble finding someone they can trust to bring them back to life."

"Yeah, but Bruce wouldn't do that," Jason insisted.

"Bruce didn't. Lex Luthor did."

"What?" Damian questioned.

"Luthor?" Tim reached for his phone, no doubt to check this information.

Jason took a few breaths before asking, "how?"

Dick clenched his hands around his thighs. If wasn't doing that, they would have gone to his throat again.

"He shoved a tablet into my mouth and forced me to swallow it."

"And you let him?"

"I couldn't move. It was a struggle to just move my head while attached to the bomb."

Jason stood up and left. Outside, something banged and crashed.

"I really hope that's his own stuff," Dick commented with a frown. He didn't want to have to replace anything.

"Dick, that's not funny," Tim stated.

"I wasn't trying to be funny," Dick responded. "I have replace anything he breaks."

"Why didn't you tell us? That's… Luthor killed you!"

"He brought me back. Adrenaline shot to the heart."

"Yeah, probably because he knew Batman would kill him if he didn't." Tim glanced at Dick, expecting some kind of joke or denial. The confirming silence was telling and disturbing. "Oh. The nightmares?"

Dick motioned for Tim and Damian to get on the bed. He told them about his nightmares, leaving out anything that might have been too disturbing for his little brothers.

* * *

_How was he supposed to explain that he didn't think they were real at first? A rescue seemed impossible._

_Except, he had seen that they hadn't been expecting to see him there. It was just unlucky chance._

_Dick's nightmares brought images of rescue, only for the heroes to flicker out moments before everything went dark. No one to save him._

Dick snapped awake. Tim was lying next to him and Damian was snoozing partway on Dick's chest. It reminded him a little of a cat.

Jason had the sense to pull out an air mattress to sleep on.

Dick's rapid heartbeat wasn't stopping. He told himself that they knew a little bit about it now.

It mattered a little. The fear, the risk, and the moments when he wasn't there. He knew that. He saw it in their reactions to learning he was alive.

But, Damian's weight on him had him thinking back to that moment. He couldn't move. Perhaps he could wiggle out?

His body didn't move.

"Damian," he called, relieved that his voice still worked.

Damian's eyes opened. "What is it?"

"Can you move, please?"

He stared at him for a few moments, considering. Dick wanted to bark at him to hurry up. His body itched to be free. But, he knew that he couldn't treat Damian like that.

"Why?"

"Move, _please_." He stressed the last work in an attempt to not yell at the kid. Damian didn't move. "NOW!"

Orders Damian knew. His body was moving before he could understand what was going on. The second Damian was up, Dick scrambled to his feet.

Jason stirred to life from the floor. "Dick? What's wrong?"

"I couldn't move," Dick said, his heart finally calming now that he was free. He leant against the wall of his bedroom and tried not to freak out about how weird he was being.

"Why?" Jason asked.

"It's just something that's been happening," Dick responded. "I don't like… being pressed down while sleeping." Or at all.

"Huh?"

"I woke in the bomb, trap, machine, whatever you want to call it. They knocked me out and I woke in it. Unable to move." He felt sick just thinking about it. It was the kind of sick that made him wish he could throw up, yet his stomach seemed content to hold onto its contents. To his frustration.

"Okay, calm down," Jason said. Dick shot him a look. He was calm.

Fine, he wasn't. But he was getting there.

"You've got to sleep," Tim said, rather hypocritically, Dick thought. "How often have you been sleeping lately?"

"Uh…" He didn't have a good answer for that. Mostly he just dozed off whenever and only until a nightmare forced him awake.

There had been those few times he had taken something to sleep dreamless, but he always woke in a panic when it wore off.

"Exactly. And the human body needs sleep."

"Human," Dick mused. "Can I be Kryptonian then?"

His brothers gave him horrified looks.

"Ugh, don't let Bruce hear that," Jason groaned.

"Why would you want to be one of those… aliens?" Damian demanded to know.

"You'd still need sleep," Tim pointed out. "The human body can only last so long without sleep. Actually, it's probably why your reactions are escalating-"

"Get back in bed," Jason barked, shutting Tim up before he could keep them all awake until morning with sleep theories.

Dick must have spent too long staring at the bed because Jason stood up with a sigh.

"Take the mattress. Not as comfy but no little birds looking for cuddles in it."

It was a relieving idea.

"Are you sure?"

"Go to bed, Dick!" Jason ordered as he climbed into the spot Dick had left in the bed. He pointed to the mattress.

Dick decided he had been mostly defeated for now. He climbed onto the mattress and dropped down.

Jason decided this was good enough. With a contented nod, he flopped face-down and started snoring.

* * *

Dick woke before his brothers. However, he had managed to get a few hours of good sleep. He felt better. It was shocking to realise just how bad he had been feeling the past few days.

His chest felt light now that the lie was over.


	2. Jason's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: What is this? This was supposed to be a one-shot! ...*sighs* Anyway, I was rereading 'Just a Lie' and I'm going, hey, I could do this from Jason's point of view and fill in some of the blanks from when Dick freaks out. So, starting part-way through the previous chapter, this is part of this story - told from Jason's POV.

 

**Just a Lie - Jason's POV**

* * *

 

Jason stared at the bathroom door. The shower was running and Dick was inside. Normally, he wouldn't be worried but there had been something strange going on with Dick.

"Dick! Open up!" Tim cried out.

"Grayson! Stop hogging all the hot water!" Damian said. Neither of them would admit to being worried but when Dick hadn't responded to Tim's first inquiry, they had started calling things out and banging on the door.

Dick had been acting strange, that Batman-wannabe said something about nightmares, but the idea that he would ignore Tim and Damian when they were openly showing their worry was worrying Jason in turn. Dick would have opened the door by now, soothed them both with his presence, in the way only the 'Golden Child' could.

Jason sighed and walked over to the door. Tim and Damian naturally got out of his way as he called out that he was coming in.

He knocked the door in without hesitation. His shoulder stung and he took satisfaction in the broken lock. At least, until he spotted Dick.

His blood went cold and horror twisted in his heart.

Dick was standing over the sink, gagging himself on his finger as the room filled with steam.

"Dick? What the- what are you doing?" Jason cried out. He rushed forward and grabbed Dick's arms, pulling his hand out of his mouth. It was then he noticed the glazed over and wild look in Dick's eyes.

Dick's eyes were dancing around the room as he slid to the ground, hyperventilating.

"Dick?" Jason tried again, softer this time. Dick was already panicking and Jason didn't want to make this worse. Whatever 'this' was.

Jason watched in cold horror as Dick's hands drifted to his own throat and squeezed tight.

"Dick!" Curses. Now Jason was panicking too and it showed in his voice. He grabbed Dick's shoulders. "Look at me. Tell me, what's going on?"

Dick's eyes focused on him for only a moment before his head lolled and shook. It was like a 'no' but his head kept slowly moving, not stopping.

"Hold him still!" Tim ordered and Jason held tight as a needle was jabbed into Dick's arm. Over-prepared Tim apparently carried sedatives but no one was going to scold him for it right now.

Dick slumped forward. He rested, unconscious against Jason.

"What was that?" Jason questioned the room at large. He had to say something, his head refusing to process whatever it was. That Dick had... had... had Dick seriously just tried to choke himself?

It was then he noticed Tim's hands begin to tremble and he realised that both little Robins had seen the whole thing take place.

Jason sighed and heaved Dick's dead-weight of a body over his shoulder.

"Alright, I'll get him to bed, you guys clean up."

* * *

Jason placed Dick on the bed and pulled the covers over him. A moment later, a hand had slapped into his face. Even drugged, Dick was fighting. He rocked and rolled and hands and feet flew everywhere. Jason pulled the covers off, ready to hold Dick down if need be.

Dick dropped down into sleep, no longer moving.

"What the?" Jason questioned at the odd behaviour. He tried pulling the covers up over Dick again.

This time he ended up with a scratch down his upper arm. When Dick woke up, Jason was going to suggest he get his girlishly sharp nails cut.

A third time confirmed it. The problem seemed to be the covers. Jason sighed and left, getting a chair from outside the room. If Dick was still able to thrash around, then he was still able to hurt himself, even unconsciously.

Tim's head poked in, although he walked in after Damian stormed in.

"Is he alright?" Tim asked.

Jason didn't know how to answer that. "Just don't put the covers over him. Lashes out like an angry cat."

That simile made Damian smirk for a moment while Tim just looked pensive.

Jason was still in the chair when Dick's 'baby blues' opened a few hours later.

"You awake?"

Dick turned to look at him and Jason exhaled in relief when Dick looked at him, rather than on some undefined spot in the distance.

"That looks uncomfortable."

"And whose fault do you think that is?" Jason barked. They had come here for a quiet night and seen their older brother hurt himself. Dick flinched but he didn't care. He needed to know. "What's going on Dick?"

"Nothing." Liar.

"Don't lie to me. You tried to choke yourself. You passed out. You lashed out whenever we tried to put even the lightest of sheets over you."

Dick seemed horrified and baffled. "I tried to what? Is that even possible?"

Jason was angry that Dick was trying to distract him from the main problem. "You wrapped your own hands around your neck and squeezed. What else am I supposed to call it? Dick, what were you doing in the bathroom?"

"A shower?" Liar.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. However, Tim got suspicious and when you didn't respond to any of his or the brat's calls, I bashed the door down." He paused as he remembered. "You need a new bathroom door, by the way." Jason tried again. "What were you doing in there? Tell me."

"I was… There was something stuck in my throat." Liar.

"No, there wasn't." They would have noticed or Dick would have choked to death.

"It felt like there was." Dick's gaze seemed to slip past Jason as his hand drifted up to his throat.

Blood turned to ice in Jason's veins.

"Dick." Jason recoiled a little. "What's going on? This..." Was scaring him. Dick was scaring them.

"It doesn't matter." Still that distant gaze. Jason got angry. Anger was better than the worry coiling in his chest.

"There's something wrong with you-"

"And it doesn't matter-"

"What makes you think THAT?" Jason bellowed. "Why do you think you have to handle all this stupid stuff alone like... him?"

Dick didn't even seem phased. His eyes slid to the ceiling. "I wonder if Bruce dreams of-" he stopped, Jason's heart stopping in unison.

"What?" Jason was relieved as Dick's eyes locked onto him again. That relief was quashed a moment later as Dick opened his mouth.

"Do you dream of the times you've died?"

"What?"

"Do you dream of the times you've died? Does being locked in a room make you feel fire?"

This was not normal. Jason swore. Dick was going crazy. "Why are you asking this?"

Dick's response was quiet, "I do."

He did? What could Dick possibly imagine?

"You haven't died!" Jason growled at him. "Sure, you faked your death and funeral-"

"How?" a young voice demanded to know from the doorway. It caused both of them to jolt and stare at the door.

Seeing Damian standing there, Jason scolded the Replacement. Surely he knew better than to allow the kid into the room right now.

"I couldn't stop him," Tim said with a shrug as he and Damian entered the room. "And, honestly, we have a right to hear this."

"No. I don't see why you need to bother with this," Dick sighed. "They're just nightmares."

"Seems like more than 'nightmares' to me," Jason snorted. "And I don't get what Damian's asking anyway."

"Everyone seemed so certain Grayson died. Why? What happened?"

Dick paled. His eyes seemed to glaze over.

Tim swallowed and bravely spoke, worried about Dick's reaction. "Come to think about it; I don't know either. All I heard was the Crime Syndicate, the evil version of the Justice League from another world, unmasked him and killed him."

Jason thought about it. He hadn't heard about the event until afterwards. Bruce had told him, in a message left on his phone, that Nightwing had died in the line of duty. Alfred had called him back and Jason only went because it was Alfred asking.

"I have no idea," he finally admitted with a shrug.

"I survived so it doesn't matter," Dick reminded them.

Jason looked at Tim and Damian. They didn't agree.

"Apparently, it does," he snorted.

Tim was the best choice to ask the next question. He was the curious one. "Dick, what happened? Why was everyone so convinced you died?"

"Because, I was hooked up to a bomb and the only way to stop it was to stop my heart. Any attempts to remove me would have resulted in an instant explosion."

A bomb. Jason felt sick. He thought he could hear the 'beep, beep, beep' of a timer ticking down.

"But... but you got out?" Damian said. He was scared. Jason could see it and hear it. It was too late to get the kid to leave, he already knew too much.

Jason should have locked the door.

He tried to reassure them. "Yeah, Bruce probably had some kind of plan." Bruce always has a plan.

"I don't see how," Tim said. Jason glared at him and he immediately apologised.

"Tim's right. And wrong," Dick sighed. "There was a way to get me out."

"Stop your heart?" Tim questioned.

Dick nodded.

"You can't just stop someone's heart," Jason said in disbelief.

"There are formulas," Damian pointed out. "Of course, most of them lead to death anyway. You need someone on standby to revive you more often than not. And assassins have trouble finding someone they can trust to bring them back to life."

Jason took a moment to think. That was probably better than anything else they were thinking.

"Yeah, but Bruce wouldn't do that." He would never kill Dick, even if it was to be temporary.

"Bruce didn't. Lex Luthor did."

Lex Luthor? Jason remembered complaining about him… right before Dick had his panic attack. His heart stopped for a moment, body freezing as he recalled. Lex Luthor was part of the Justice League. _Bruce had let Dick's killer into the Justice League!_ What was he thinking?

Jason took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. He couldn't get angry at Dick. If anything, Dick should be the one getting angry.

"How?" he asked, feeling sick to his stomach.

Dick swallowed twice times before answering. "He shoved a tablet into my mouth and forced me to swallow it."

"And you let him?" Dick wouldn't just stand around and let someone kill him. Nightwing was a fighter, just like the rest of them.

"I couldn't move. It was a struggle to just move my head while attached to the bomb."

Dick had been tethered to a bomb, unable to leave, knowing that it would be his life or thousands of lives and had to stay there as someone killed him with a chemical.

It brought up bad memories. Dick hadn't been held in a warehouse. He probably hadn't been beaten… Jason hoped he hadn't been beaten.

Where had Bruce been? _Why was Bruce letting Dick's killer walk free?_

Jason needed to hit something. He stormed out and kicked a chair before banging his hand on the counter.

"Ow!" he cursed as his hand throbbed with pain.

He cursed again, ignoring the stinging at the corner of his eyes.

Dick wasn't supposed to die in a room with a bomb and no way out. Dick wasn't supposed to. He wasn't supposed to come back either.

* * *

"NOW!" The bark of an order worked its way into Jason's dreamland.

"Dick?" The eldest was curled up against the wall, breathing heavily. Damian was kneeling on the bed, looking downcast. "What's wrong?"

"I couldn't move."

"Why?"

"It's just something that's been happening," Dick responded. "I don't like… being pressed down while sleeping."

"Huh?" Was this like the sheet covers thing? Because Jason still needed some kind of apology for when Dick-the-unconscious-cat scratched him.

"I woke in the bomb, trap, machine, whatever you want to call it. They knocked me out and I woke in it. Unable to move." Dick was breathing shallow breaths, looking pale.

"Okay, calm down." Jason winced. That was the stupidest thing to say. Who calmed down when told to? It seemed Dick agreed with him, judging by the look he shot at him.

"You've got to sleep," Tim said. "How often have you been sleeping lately?" Jason wondered the same about Tim. But, at least Tim didn't seem to be having night terrors.

"Uh…"

Jason rolled his eyes. Of course Dick wouldn't have any idea. He was starting to understand where all the freak-outs were coming from. Dick was probably dead on his feet from lack of sleep.

How had they not noticed?

"Exactly. And the human body needs sleep."

"Human," Dick mused with the far-off gaze. At least his eyes seemed clear as he continued, "can I be Kryptonian then?"

"Ugh, don't let Bruce hear that," Jason groaned. Why would anyone want to be like Superman? Wonder Woman was better.

"Why would you want to be one of those… aliens?" Damian demanded to know.

"You'd still need sleep," Tim pointed out. "The human body can only last so long without sleep. Actually, it's probably why your reactions are escalating-"

"Get back in bed," Jason ordered Dick. He agreed with Tim but he didn't need Tim explaining everything. They all knew how lack of sleep affected the human body. Sadly, most of that came from experience.

There was that glazed look again. Jason wondered if even the thought of climbing into bed was starting to affect his brother. Unsurprisingly, Dick didn't move.

Jason sighed. If Dick didn't want the bed, he would take it. Even if it came with two annoying brothers.

"Take the mattress. Not as comfy but no little birds looking for cuddles in it."

Dick focused on him and Jason really hoped to never see that glazed look again. He knew it was probably a vain hope though.

"Are you sure?" Dick asked.

"Go to bed, Dick!" Jason ordered as he climbed into the spot Dick had left in the bed. Ugh. It was warm from Dick's body heat. Jason pointed to the mattress. He wasn't going to sleep until Dick was lying down in bed.

Dick slowly climbed onto the mattress, half-way to sleep as he lay down.

Jason decided this was good enough. With a contented nod, he flopped face-down and started snoring.


End file.
